Role Reversal
by Furiyan
Summary: He's grumpy. He's cantankerous. He possesses little patience for the affairs of the earth, but when he is asked to clean up a mess left by a certain Ice Queen and a certain Nightmare King, he's definitely not happy about it. Rated T for British swearing, which probably doesn't count.


**A/N: I have no idea why I did this. All I know is that I had a dream last night which gave me the inspiration for this oneshot. I have no idea if anyone will like it, but I figured I'd throw it up here anyway.**

**I don't own ROTG or Frozen or any of the characters therein, nor the song Time in a Bottle (that's Jim Croce). This particular imagining of Death is mine, though. **

**So, here goes.**

**Role Reversal**

The seductive rage and malicious vengeance that had clouded Elsa's mind and heart was still coursing through her when she re-appeared out of the shadows into her bedroom along with the Nightmare King. She didn't feel used at all, like so many would have assumed. She wanted this on some level.

She _wanted_ the release of all the pent-up negativity inside her. The social anxiety, the fear, the anger. The belief that even though she was the rightful ruler of Arendelle and was a benevolent queen, that she still had to prove herself to her subjects as a result of the shadow cast by the freezing of Arendelle. The resentment of a certain winter spirit's freedom, and the Guardians' visits to her younger sister but none to her.

All of these that she _thought_ she had long made peace with, yet it seems not.

"I think," Pitch smirked as he took Elsa's hands in his own, "you did very well tonight."

Elsa answered with her own smile, offering a mock-curtsey to the compliment.

"As did you."

"I'm particularly proud, my Queen, of how you disposed of those pathetic Guardians. I must be honest, I had my doubt over whether you would be up to the task of ending Jack Frost, but I can see my…doubts…were misplaced."

Elsa felt a pang of something she hadn't felt in a long time in her stomach, at the mention of the winter spirit's name. They had fallen for each other a long time ago, but ever since Jack had left to go about his worldly tasks she stopped seeing him around Arendelle. Over time, she began to forget about him, the loneliness that inevitably crept in causing her to bear a grudge against the young spirit. She knew on some level that it wasn't his fault, but it didn't help how she felt.

It was loneliness and, dare she say it, fear that the Nightmare King had happily moved into, giving her the companionship she sorely craved. But had she jumped at the chance too quickly, without thinking through the consequences? With Pitch, the negative emotions inside her had only grown. Anger at Jack's absence when she wanted him most, paranoia and distrust at her kingdom for whether or not they still believed in her ability as a queen despite her lack of experience and…her powers. Having Pitch as company only magnified these emotions to the point that she was nearly consumed by them, and she knew it wouldn't be long until she was taken over by hate.

The Snow Queen and the Nightmare King. The Guardians had already fallen, and the world would be theirs. So why was there a small voice in the back of her mind, screaming that she had been taken over the line? Maybe because she knew what she had done was so morally wrong, and some part of her cared.

She was about to get her answer.

The blizzard that was raging outside of her royal bedroom suddenly froze in mid-air like someone had hit _pause _on the world outside, filling the room with an unearthly silence that took even the Nightmare King by surprise.

"What's going on?" he muttered, releasing her hands and staring out of the window.

"I do not know…" she replied, and her head whirled around the room, hoping to spot the source of the strange disturbance…and spot it she did.

With a gasp, she recoiled and pointed at the doorway, and when Pitch followed her gaze he narrowed his eyes in confusion. Casually leaning against the doorframe was a young man, possibly in his early twenties. He wore strange clothing that she had never seen before but Elsa could sense that, like Pitch, this man preferred black over anything else. He wore a long black coat made from leather that seemed to reach his ankles, and heavy boots with lots of silver buckles on them, and unlike the rest of his attire, his hair was pure white and swept into a long ponytail. He was currently inspecting his fingernails, as though breaking into the bedroom of a Queen was nothing special.

Elsa saw Pitch's left hand twitch, and an orb of shadow-sand begin to swirl in its palm. In response, she also summoned a flurry of ice magic at her own fingertips.

"Who are you, and what is your business here?" she asked, every word hanging with the weight of a command. The young man didn't move his head but stared right up at her, then rolled his eyes with a sneer on his pale face. He did not respond, and that was all the incentive Pitch needed to fire his sand at the man. Within seconds, the young man was engulfed from head to toe in the swirling dark magic – but the strange thing Elsa had noticed before it happened was that he hadn't moved an inch, like he wasn't bothered in the slightest.

When he finally spoke, it was with an English accent but not with the refined tones that she had become used to with visitors from that country, more of a peasant tongue.

"Oooh, that tickles. Nice try, Kozmotis." came a voice from somewhere under the mass of sand, and with stunned surprise the King and Queen watched as the sand froze, then dropped to the ground completely inert. Again, the man hadn't changed his position.

"How did you do that? How did you know my name?" Pitch asked, and Elsa could feel the anxiety radiating off him. After defeating the Guardians, he would have been riding high on victorious euphoria, but to come face to face with someone who, apparently, was far more powerful was going to be a hell of a shock. Elsa decided to try her luck, and shot her magic towards the man.

This time, he did react…albeit lazily. He merely raised the hand which he had been inspecting and caught the blast of magic with little to no effort. With a murmur of _'hmm, cute', _he raised the hand to his lips and gently blew the magic away, particles of frost disappearing into the darkened room. Elsa now shared the anxiety that Pitch had been feeling, and knowing that she had been holding back that time, tried again but with her full effort.

"That's enough of that." the man tersely declared, waving his hand in a wiping motion. Elsa's breath stalled in her throat when she felt something she definitely was not expecting – her magic disappeared from her body. Completely. Not two seconds ago, she was feeling the familiar rush and buzz as it rose from her core into her fingertips, but now there was nothing.

"Pitch…I…my magic has gone…" she murmured in shock. Pitch's eyes widened as for the first time, he actually experienced it. The Boogeyman was _scared_.

"How dare you-"

The man waved his hand once more and Pitch felt the words freeze in his throat, and try as he might he couldn't force them up. He could not speak at all.

"Pitch, I think I speak for all of us – and by that I mean Gaia, Father Time, Cupid et cetera et cetera when I say…shut the hell up, you whiny self-absorbed little whelp."

Elsa glanced between the two men as she backed away; the newcomer's eyes were narrowed with annoyance and grumpiness while Pitch's were wide with recognition and worry.

"Who are you?" she asked quietly, anxious to avoid the same fate as had befallen her companion. The man's eyes flicked to her, and she could see the orbs were pure black, like a solar eclipse in a white sky.

"I'm the idiot they sent to sort _your_ mess out, you silly girl." he snapped.

"M-my mess?" she repeated.

"Oh great, of all the people I have to speak to, I get a sodding parrot. Yes, _your_ mess, Princess. Your little antics with Emo-Boy over here have upset the delicate balance between things. What the hell were you thinking? My domain just got an influx of souls belonging to people who weren't supposed to die yet; I don't even have rooms for them! The best part is, four of them are bloody Guardians and aren't even supposed to die _at all!_"

Elsa blinked a few times as she assimilated the information, and the realisation crept into her like the beginning of an April shower. No wonder this man so effortlessly repelled their magic, nullified hers and gagged Pitch.

"You're Death…" she gasped, and the fear inside her grew just that little bit more. Was he here to claim her, to claim Pitch? She didn't know if he could take Pitch with him to the underworld, but given that she herself killed the Guardians…the voice that had been screaming in her head now spoke with firm menace.

_Death would be the easy way out for what you did to Jack. He gave you his heart, and you froze it. You didn't even give him the peace of a quick death; you let it happen slowly, didn't you? You watched the fear, the betrayal in his eyes as the ice claimed him. _

"Well you're a contradiction, aren't you? Intelligent, perceptive, and royally bloody stupid. I'll get to _you_ in a minute, 'cause you and I are going to have a good long chat about your screw-up. I just have to deal with Mr '_Waaa-waaa! The world's not scared of me anymore!' _over here."

He turned and fixed Pitch with a furious glare and the King recoiled, having come to the same realisation as Elsa.

"You are _such_ an idiot, Kozmotis. I mean, _really_. Did you honestly think you could do this, that you could rope an innocent, hurting, lonely little girl to do your dirty work for you, and ignore the consequences?"

Pitch's eyes widened just that little bit more as his mouth opened and closed, an utterly pointless venture as Death's power still prevented him from speaking.

"Oh, didn't he tell you?" the man said with a faux-breezy tone, "Mr Nightmare King over here doesn't have the power to take down the Guardians; they're too strong for him. He needed _you_ to do it for him. Lazy tosser."

Elsa's breath hitched in surprise and her head turned to her companion. Ordinarily she would have refuted this accusation, but given that she was talking to the Grim Reaper of all people, she took his word as above reproach.

"Is this true?" she hissed. Pitch frantically shook his head.

"Kozmotis. Be a good little boy and tell the truth, now. Daddy doesn't like it when naughty boys tell fibs." Death rebuked him in a nonchalant, sing-song voice. This Reaper is strange, Elsa thought. She had always pictured him as grandiose, malevolent and amoral. Not cantankerous, ill-tempered and sarcastic. Eventually, Pitch did as he was told, and confirmed the truth with a nod of his head.

"There, you see?" Death smirked, condescendingly whapping the side of Pitch's face with his right hand as if to say 'attaboy',"that wasn't hard now, was it?"

Elsa's glare was fiery, and full of wounded betrayal. Pitch had told her that the Guardians were out to get her, that even Jack was in on it. He had played into her paranoia, stating that her subjects were plotting against her. He had taken the seeds of distrust and anger inside her and made then bloom into a vicious, dark tree…and once he thought she was ready, he had let her loose on her own kingdom…on the Guardians…on her own lover.

She had killed everyone in a rage caused by a spirit that was too cowardly to do it himself.

"You…" she stepped forward with every intention of socking him around the jaw, until Death held up a hand to stop her.

"Ah ah ah. There'll be no more violence tonight. You have enough blood on your hands, little girl."

"Don't call me that." she hissed at him in a rare, ill-thought out retort. Death raised his eyebrows into his hair.

"What should I call you then? Gullible? Murderer? Witch? Milady, I've been around since this crapsack of a world began, I have seen to more souls coming into my realm than you've had dirty thoughts about Jacky-boy down there. You are just a scared little girl holding a big gun, allowing people like Tosspot over here to tell you where to point it. You're better than this and you _know_ you are."

Elsa paled a little. She never thought that the Grim Reaper would be so…blunt. The man turned his cold gaze back to Pitch who stiffened, and started to lean backwards away from him.

"You just don't get it do you, Kozmotis? All your scrambling to get people to believe in you, to get people to fear you…you forgot the reason you're bloody here in the first place – to protect children!"

Death seemed to be able to sense Elsa's confusion, and briefly explained before resuming his rant.

"Oh yeah, Emo-Boy over here is about as close to a Guardian as it gets. I mean, their entire schtick is about protecting kids, and there's nothing more protective to a child than fear. I mean, without it, what would prevent a five year old boy from sticking his fingers into a tiger enclosure? Climbing up an electricity pylon?"

"What…what do those mean? What is electricity?" Elsa asked, those words being totally alien to her…in fact the entire _situation_ was surreal.

Death frowned at her in equal confusion, and then his face went blank as a realisation sank down on his shoulders.

"Bloody hell," he hissed to himself, then called up to the ceiling as though speaking to a higher power, "you could've told me you were sending me back in time! I'll explain later, _milady_."

"See, here's the problem we have, Kozmotis. Gaia, Father Time, Manny and I are getting a little sick of your constant tantrums, and with you roping Princess over here into your latest scheme, she's got the blood on her hands of her entire kingdom plus four Guardians, and one winter spirit. So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to send you back to your pathetic excuse for a lair, and you're going to have a good long think about your role in this world. If I ever and I mean _ever_ get even a hint of you playing up again, I will come down on you faster than a ton of bricks. Got it?"

Death didn't even wait for him to answer before dismissively waving his hand, and Pitch seemed to unwillingly melt into the shadows. Elsa's body froze as she realised that with Pitch no longer in the room, she was next in Death's firing line. He turned to face her with an expression that was dancing between grumpy irritation and genuine sympathy.

"I'm in two minds about you, Elsa."

She blinked at the mention of her actual name. Thus far, Death had only referred to her in a sarcastic, sneering manner with various jabs at her royal status or physical maturity.

"See, on the one hand I've got a metaphorical waiting room full of people who died before their time, with five of them being there for the _second_ time. One of them happens to be royally pissed at you, by the way. Well…all of them are, but one in particular is completely and utterly heartbroken. On the other, I think you've been genuinely conned into doing Kozmotis' dirty work."

"Jack…" she mumbled to herself, as the realisation sunk down into her stomach, churning it with a dash of self-hate. She did that. She allowed the self-proclaimed King of Fear to warp her emotions and turn her into a weapon. Her eyes began to well up as a tear slid down from her left eye.

"Oh lovely, here come the waterworks," he scoffed as he rolled his eyes, then spoke once more in a mocking sing-song tone, "I'm crying, because as well as wiping out my kingdom I killed the only man I love and I don't think he loves me anymore because I was a silly girl and let a man with the moral stability of melted chocolate corrupt me…"

Elsa wasn't sure how much she could take. Death was definitely displeased with them both, and he was giving it both barrels in the voicing of his disdain. He was talking to her almost like she was an errant teenager and he was a cantankerous old man – which he probably was.

"Stop…please! Why are you being so…"

"Blunt?" he interrupted, surprise in his face, "Gee, I can't think why. Maybe it's something to do with me having to visit this sorry excuse for a planet to clean up the mess of a spirit who threw his toys out of the pram, and a little ice-wielding girl who forgot what it means to be human."

"I'm sorry, alright?!" she shrieked, the sobs unstoppable and the grief overwhelming her, "I'm so sorry…I did this, I did this. I let my fears get the better of me and I did this. I'm so sorry."

Death studied her for a moment, moving his jaw from side to side in thought.

"I ain't the one you should be apologising to, love. I'm just the caretaker of the poor muppets you set my way."

Elsa collapsed to her knees and sobbed into her hands as the truth of the matter came down on her, the sheer weight of the responsibility clawing at her chest like a heavy creature, strengthening the thought that she was a monster, and the worry that she was beyond forgiveness.

But Death was not done yet.

Before she knew it, he grasped one of her convulsing arms and in a moment of resigned reaction, her world faded to a pitch black with nothing but Death for company. She wondered if this was her reward, her punishment, the mess he had to 'clean up'. Maybe he was coming to claim her as retribution. She entertained the thought that she might be able to see Jack again, to make him understand…

Slowly, the world came into focus; blurry at first, but sharpening as time went on. She felt Death's firm grip on her wrist slacken, and when she felt cold air kiss her face, she realised that the Reaper had teleported them from her room…

…into the town square, the battlefield where it had all happened.

"You can say sorry all you want, Elsa, but until you see the gravity of what you did…" he trailed off.

Elsa slowly staggered to her feet and her tearful eyes took in every inch of the carnage around her. Icicles protruded from the chests of soldiers, families were frozen in their chairs or where they stood, and a pair of nightmares still roamed around the battlefield for any living souls to extinguish. Death muttered something obscene about the creatures and raised a hand in a clawed position, then clenched it. The mares froze as though they had been gripped by an invisible force, and with a satisfied grunt Death made a motion as though ripping something, and before Elsa's eyes the nightmares were torn asunder with a resounding shriek.

"Disgusting." he hissed contemptuously. Elsa stepped around, dodging bodies here and there, a hint of amazement in her eyes that the sharp, tiny snowflakes that constituted her once-raging blizzard had still been frozen in time.

"Did you do this?" she asked, her eyes scanning the town square for a familiar spirit.

"Not usually, but on this occasion I've been granted special dispensation. I say 'granted', because I'm pretty much a force of nature just like Gaia and Father Time, but because I drew the short straw to deal with this I get to do what they do. Once we're finished, I go back to doing what I love, and they carry on doing their usual schtick. He's over there, by the way."

Elsa turned toward the disdainful voice and her eyes followed the Reaper's right finger, and then with a pain in her chest that felt like a dagger through her heart, and the tears that had begun anew in her eyes, she ran sobbing toward him.

Jack had indeed been frozen in pure, flawless ice. He was on his knees wearing that peasant's outfit that she met him in, and his unfrozen staff was pitifully cast several feet away. His shoulders were hunched and his pose one of begging…but his face renewed the stab of pain in her heart.

It was an expression of _"Why?"._

"Oh Jack…I'm so sorry…" she whispered, collapsing to her knees in front of him and cupping his icy face. "Please forgive me…"

Death rolled his eyes. He never understood the mortal propensity to talk to inanimate objects that signified someone's passing, as if a gravestone or the statue of an angel was going to engage in a conversation with them. He knew it did help the speaker, though, so it was a quirk that he often ignored.

"What have I done?" she whispered, the tears flowing freely as she cried, as her mind replayed the event over and over again. Jack was the last to fall as he was always resilient to her magic…but eventually he too succumbed. Elsa had knocked his staff out of the way with an evil cackle, and hissed something to him about betrayal, about how she knew what they were planning. He just shook his head and tried to protest, tried to make her understand that they were trying to protect her from Pitch, trying to prevent this very battle from happening. He tried to say those three words that used to warm her heart, but at that moment sickened her to the core. She remembered kneeling down in front of him, roughly gripping the back of his neck and hovering her lips half an inch away from his…and whispering _'I don't love you' _ as she placed a hand to his chest and let her magic loose inside him. When Anna was hit in the heart, it was a short and sharp burst that thankfully gave her time to discover what true love really was. With Jack, she took no chances, and sent blast after blast inside him.

It only took seconds before he died, but Jack's last words stuck in her mind like an immovable rock.

"_I hope it was worth it…"_

Elsa sensed Death's presence beside her as she cried, and in between the huge lump in her throat she managed to speak.

"They were never plotting to harm me, were they?" she asked, already knowing the answer. She also knew the type of reply she was going to get.

"Use your brain, princess. Four of them are the Guardians of Childhood, and the fifth one is a carefree, fun-loving winter spirit. What possible reason could they have to harm you?"

"I thought it was my powers…" she mumbled, prompting Death to raise his arms to the night sky and huff in exasperation.

"No, you _feared_ it was your powers. See, where I come from I know all about you. I know how you were put in self-imposed isolation; how you were taught to _fear_ your powers instead of embrace them. How you couldn't accept that what happened in the ballroom was an accident, and that made you think you were a monster. I know that you held on to that belief for thirteen years until your coronation, when you fled your kingdom – again, in _fear_ – and isolated yourself again so you could be free."

"The thing is, Elsa, after thirteen years of believing you're a monster, that your abilities are something to be feared, it doesn't go away that easily. That was Kozmotis' way in to you, that was how he corrupted you and warped you into the killer you became…but do you know what the really screwed up thing is?"

Elsa shook her head, still unable to look at the ancient Reaper.

"It wasn't your fault. Well, technically it was _you_ that wiped everyone out, but it wasn't your fault that you came to be this way. Your parents said as much."

"My…my parents?"

"Duh. Where do you think they went after the accident at sea? I talked to them at length when it happened, and many more times since then up until your coronation, and when you thawed your kingdom. Your father regrets his actions so much. He said that if he really understood what that troll king – Pabbie, I think his name was – had meant, you wouldn't be this way. This," he gestured around him, "would never have happened."

"I-I don't understand…" she murmured, this time staring into Death's eclipsed eyes with uncomprehending wonder.

"Fear will be your enemy, Elsa. That's what the troll said, but he didn't mean _'the fear of other people'_ , he meant your own fear. You said it yourself, love will thaw. You were supposed to _love_, to embrace your abilities. Your father regrets mistaking the troll's advice and setting you down this path, he feels it is his fault and not yours."

Logically, Death's words made sense…but Elsa wouldn't accept them. It wasn't Agdar that killed the kingdom and froze the heart of Jack Frost. It was her.

"It doesn't matter anymore whose fault it was," Elsa sniffed, her voice taking on a resigned and solemn tone, "this was all my doing. I'm ready."

Death raised his eyebrows, not quite getting it.

"Ready for what?"

"For you to take me to the underworld. Perhaps there…I can make things-" she began, but was interrupted by deep, surprised laughter. She couldn't help but scowl at the reaper who was clutching his stomach, gripped by the convulsions of mirth.

"You…you think I'm here to take your soul, that that was what I meant by cleaning up your mess?"

He burst into laughter once again, raising a hand up to the Queen as if to say _'please, no more, you're killing me here'._ Elsa was feeling the pangs of hurt at this. Going to the underworld was the only way she could think of to make things right with everyone she had harmed, and more importantly, with Jack. Death's reaction was putting paid to that idea, and it hurt, especially with the cavalier attitude.

"Oh, for comedy like that I might have to visit this place more. Seriously, you crack me up. No, Elsa, I'm not here to claim your soul." he smirked, still giggling. Elsa looked almost mortified.

"What? Why?"

"Because you don't get off that easy, princess." he growled, the mirth completely gone from his voice and a menacing tone in its place.

"Like I said before, I've got a few people in my underworld that aren't supposed to be there, which means I have to restore the balance, and because of that, Gaia has temporarily granted me the power of life in addition to my own power over death…as well as the whole time-freeze schtick."

Elsa's eyes widened with the implications of his statement. She couldn't hope…no, it was too good to be true…

"You can resurrect the dead that are lying here?"

"Yup." Death answered, nodding his head.

"And you can bring back the Guardians…bring back Jack…" she gasped, starting to come around to the idea that there _could_ be a way out…that there _could_ be a way she could make things right!

"Correctamundo, but-"

"Please!" she rushed forward, grabbing the lapels of his trenchcoat with a pleading expression, "please, you must do it! Bring them back! I need them…I need him…"

"Okay, two things. One, get the hell off me. Two, are you sure? 'cause last I saw, Jack was pretty pissed off with you. Chances are slimmer than a breadstick that he'll forgive you…but what do I know? Love transcends death, or so they say."

Elsa straightened and tried to convey as much conviction as she could possibly muster in her next few words. She had the chance to rectify the mistake, she wasn't about to let it slip through her fingers.

"I would spend the rest of my days trying to obtain their forgiveness. If it took until the end of time, I would never stop."

Death gazed at her studiously, and with a leathery crinkle he folded his arms across his chest.

"Funny you should say that, because when I was granted the power over life by Gaia, I was also granted something else by Manny – the power to grant immortality. Protection from me, I guess."

He saw Elsa's face brighten and quickly held up a hand to silence her. Being the steward of all mortal souls that left the earth and being tapped in to the various ley lines and rules of magic offered him knowledge far above this mere mortal.

"Here's the deal. When it's someone's time to die, that's it. Kaput. They're shuffling off the mortal coil, checking out, kicking the bucket. Every now and then, someone can be lucky enough to live on borrowed time. For example, there was a young girl in Burgess that was supposed to fall through some ice and drown, but 'cause her big brother was oh so heroic, he took the fall for her. Either way, someone had to snuff it. 'Course, Manny got there first, but hey."

"What I'm trying to say is, in order to restore the balance and revive these people, I need something to…fuel it, I guess."

"What?" Elsa asked.

"Your mortality."

She flinched, but that was due to the straightforwardness of his reply.

"My…my…"

Death sighed and covered his face with the palm of his hand.

"Okay, exposition time. Basically, every human being full of magical or spiritual energy, they just can't access it…well, except you and this other chick from Corona or something. That energy lasts them from the moment they're born until they die. It ain't your life-force, 'cause that's what keeps you living and breathing and – in your case – screwing things up. No, it's more like the energy behind what you _do_ in your life, what you become, who you meet et cetera et cetera. Like, I watched some television show about these Creeping Angels or something that send people back in time, and feed off the potential energy of what they _would_ have done had they _not_ been sent back. It's sort of like that."

Elsa's face was blank, and Death rolled his eyes as he sighed. Whether it was the 'explanation' or the references from way too far in the future, he didn't know.

"Oyyy. I would be taking the energy of the rest of your life you would have had to lead, and using it to resurrect your friends. Trust me, the life-energy of a mortal is _that_ strong. You would be sacrificing yourself, essentially – and because of that, Manny has asked me to revive you as the Spirit of the Snow Queen. Assuming you agree, of course. If you don't, these people stay as dead as a door knob and I go back to the underworld, try and find a place for all the new arrivals."

"I'll do it." Elsa announced without hesitation. Death raised his eyebrows once more and cocked his head.

"Are you sure? Immortality is a two-edged sword. Sure, you won't age, but you'll never die. You'll watch the world grow and progress, but you'll also live on while everyone you love passes away. Chances are, you might not be seen by anyone that doesn't believe in you, and there's always the chance that Jacky-boy will give you the middle finger and you'll spend the rest of eternity alone. This is a big thing, Elsa. Immortality is a gift _not_ to be accepted lightly."

Elsa re-asserted her answer, with greater vigour than before. Death inhaled and exhaled deeply, then nodded his agreement. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and it felt so cold and lifeless to her. She felt the rush of something from his touch spread to every inch of her body, and it hitched her breath as well as sped her heartbeat.

"Was that it?" she asked. It felt a little anti-climactic. Death was essentially going to kill her, after all.

"Nope, that was just me giving your powers back to you. I don't bloody want 'em. The powers I have to juggle right now are enough, thank you very much."

"Oh…" she blinked.

He stood in front of her and raised an open hand to her forehead, and slowly it advanced to the point that she could feel the chill radiating from his fingertips.

"Wait…" she said suddenly, flinching as a thought cropped up in her head. Death sighed and gave her a _'yes?'_ expression.

"Will they remember what I've done?"

"Yes and no. The mortals won't, 'cause I'm gonna redo their memory so you died in the face of an unnatural, horrific threat that had come to eat their children and steal their spoons or something. The Guardians and Jack…they'll remember. That's pretty much your penance. See, even though you're willingly sacrificing yourself to save their lives, you're still the reason they died…again. So you've got to make it up to them, to earn their forgiveness. That's why Manny's granting you immortality, so you have the chance to either regain their trust, or spend eternity alone. Don't piss it away."

He shuffled and limbered up a little, then began to move his fingertips to her head once more…until she had another question.

"Am I right in assuming you're from the future?"

"Yes…" he groaned, seriously debating putting his hand on her head _right now_ to shut her up.

"Do Jack and I…does it work out for us…if this works?" she asked hopefully.

"Can't tell you, 'cause that would be cheating. Are we gonna do this thing or not?" he answered tersely.

Elsa nodded with disappointment at his reply, inhaled a strengthening breath, and then nodded once more in readiness. This is it. She was going to die.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts. Flight Elsa'sgonnadie is approaching the runway now, and if the passenger would look to her right she will notice something pretty freakin' awesome happening."

Without hesitation, he grasped her forehead with one hand and extended the other to the sky. Elsa gasped sharply as she felt her legs begin to weaken and her heart begin to slow down, but she didn't want to miss this.

"Oooh, tingly." Death shivered as golden energy spread in hundreds of tendrils from his fingertips, radiating out like a glorious, bright, life-giving tree and seeking the motionless bodies spread out along the town square's cobbled floor. Icicles dissolved into snowy dust and disappeared into the air, the frost that covered the townspeople faded into nothingness, and colour began to find itself into their physical beings once more. However, her dwindling concentration was focused on only one person as she collapsed to her knees, feeling her life drain away.

The last tendril found its way into Jack's heart, and pulse after pulse shot along its golden length, filling him with life-giving energy. She tried as hard as she could to not succumb just yet; she wanted to see if it was going to work. It should, given that the Grim Reaper _himself_, a force as old as time was conducting the ritual, but she just wanted to see it for herself. She wanted to know he would be alive once more.

And just before her eyes closed for the last time, she smiled with warm satisfaction as she saw brown replace blue, pale skin replace solid ice. At last, she gave in and fell to the floor, lifeless.

Death gazed down at her with a mixture of indifference, solemn sadness and something approaching admiration. He knew that a lot of people that die in place of others usually do so without knowledge of their demise, but he had the greatest respect for those that were starkly aware and still gave their lives anyway.

He knelt down over the still form of Queen Elsa, and cocked his head to the side.

"Three…two…one…" he muttered, counting down with his fingers, and with the punctuality rivalling that of the morning sunrise, Elsa sharply sucked in her first breath as an immortal being, her eyes wide and full of shock.

The world was blurry once again, little splodges of white in a sea of black. Each breath was life-giving, reenergising her body with the beautiful chill of the air. She took deep inhalations and exhalations, slowly coming to terms with the fact that it had _worked_. She had died a few seconds ago, and was reborn as the Snow Queen.

She would live forever, but as a familiar face barged its way to the front of her mind, she wondered if forever would be worth living without _him_.

"Welcome back, sparky." Death smirked, and offered her his arm. She hesitantly eyed it, wondering if his touch would send her back to oblivion once again. He rolled his eyes sarcastically and twitched his arm with impatience. She eventually took it, and with a strength that did not befit his slender stature, he effortlessly pulled her to her feet, her ice dress trailing after her.

She gazed around at the scene, and felt the thud of something in her stomach which prompted a fierce churning. Everyone was full of colour and free from the frost magic, but still motionless. She felt a wetness appear in her eyes as she started to wonder if her sacrifice had meant anything,

"They're not moving…" she sighed, a deep sadness in her words.

"It didn't work." he murmured, his voice attempting to sound consoling. Elsa flicked her eyes to his, and once more they began to well up. Her last card had been played, and it was all for nothing. She failed. She searched the Reaper's face for an answer or even a _clue_ for the reason why. Did she not possess enough 'energy' within her? Were her actions too horrific for the laws of magic to allow Death's gambit to work? His expression remained sombre yet unreadable…until…

The Reaper burst into raucous laughter, doubling over as he pointed half-heartedly at Elsa's face. She was stunned, completely bewildered by his reaction.

_How could he laugh? I failed! This is no laughing matter!_

"Oh, the look on your face! I wish you could see it, it's a bloody picture. If I could capture it and take it back to the underworld with me, I would. Absolutely priceless."

Elsa's mouth opened and closed in disbelief. Death's laughter had subsided into chuckles, the wide and toothy grin splitting his pale yet strangely handsome features.

"The reason they're not moving yet, Elsa, is because time has still been stopped. It was mean of me, sorry. I just wanted to see how you would react!"

She felt relief wash over her along with strong irritation for this entity that so heartlessly poked fun at her gamble. She actually believed that she had failed, and he made light of that.

"If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do…is to save every day, 'til eternity passes away…" he sang a strange song that Elsa was unfamiliar with as he placed his left thumb against his middle finger…and then clicked.

The blizzard renewed itself, but the speed and ferocity at which it rushed prior to Death's pausing of the passage of time quickly dwindled into something approaching a lazy snowfall, another example of her magic reflecting her emotions.

People began to stir and awaken around her – guards pushing themselves up from the ground, families shuffling as though they were rising from a deep sleep. Elsa's heart swelled with joy as she revolved on her feet and watched the scene unfold. She had done it. She had saved their lives, giving her own as atonement. This was another instance of true love, that of one's kingdom and subjects.

_Love will thaw._

"Did the creature leave?"  
"The Queen fought it off!"  
"We're safe!"

Elsa smiled at the Reaper beside her, who winked and whispered a _'told you'._ This was more than she could have dreamed…until a voice that was decidedly less joyful resounded across the square, curiously unheard by the townspeople.

"You!"

Both Death and Elsa's heads whipped to the source, and she felt fear trickle down her spine as she watched North rise to his feet, pointing the tip of his sabre in an accusing manner.

"Nicholas, I-" she began, but he mercilessly cut her off.

"You side with Pitch, you wipe out town, you murder _us_…and you dare stand there like nothing happen?!"

He marched towards her with a sabre raised, fury on his once-jolly features as he approached with the intent of ending the woman. At least, until Death stepped in front of her and waggled a finger at the portly Guardian.

"Ah-ah-ah. We've had enough fighting for one night, don't you think?"

North froze in his step, complete and utter shock across his features. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"Azrael?! What are you _doing_ here? Why are you protecting this…witch?"

Death raised his eyebrows in mild amusement, an almost faraway look on his face.

"That's a name I haven't gone by in a long time. Most people call me Thanatos, or Grim Reaper or whatever. Anyway, I'm not protecting her. If you want to kill her after I'm done talking, by all means go for it. 'Til then, shut up and listen."

Elsa's nerves reached a high point but were tinged with amusement at how rudely he spoke to everyone, even the fabled Guardians of Childhood. At least, until she rested eyes upon Jack who had staggered to his feet and clutched his staff for support, and was regarding her with an expression dancing betwixt wounded betrayal, resounding love and unmitigated fury, and a sprinkling of deep sadness to garnish.

"Snow Queen over here just gave up her right to die as a mortal, her entire life energy so I could resurrect you ungrateful tosspots, so I think that merits a stay of execution, don'tchathink? On top of that, while she was the one to open a can of whoop-ass on you all, Kozmotis was the one to wind her up and let her go. You want someone to blame, I reckon he's got the lion's share."

North opened his mouth a few times in an attempt to counter, but the words never came. Tooth and Bunny cast confused glances at each other, and Sandy wore an expression of logical thought. He was always the most balanced of the group.

Jack, on the other hand, either didn't hear a word or chose to ignore it. His breath rose and fell in a controlled manner, and Elsa wrung her hands as she watched him work out precisely what he was going to do.

"What I've done is basically used her life to revive all of you, and in the process have given her immortality 'cause it's an act of sacrifice. Whether it's a gift or a curse is up to her, but she has agreed to spend eternity seeking your forgiveness. Whether _you_ see fit to grant her that, it's up to you. I really couldn't give a toss, my work here is done."

Elsa's eyes still remained upon Jack who this time was staring at Death, taking in every word. The fury in his eyes had gone, but the sadness and betrayal was still there, now joined by frowning understanding.

"It's true…" she smiled hopefully at Jack, who vetoed the gesture by scowling.

"You think that makes up for what you said? What you did?" he snarled, waving his staff about in a threatening manner. Elsa flinched; she had never seen Jack's dark side before.

"Oh boy…" Death said, his hands on his hips as he deeply exhaled, "talk about awkward."

"I'm so sorry Jack, I didn't mean to-"

"What, Elsa? Didn't mean that you didn't love me, or didn't mean to kill me? To hell with you, Elsa. I will _never_ forgive you." he growled, intentionally keeping his voice as even as possible.

Elsa's breath caught in her throat as Jack's words cut her heart to pieces. Tears slid down her face as she bowed her head, fingers grasping and releasing her dress.

"You're right," she mumbled weakly, "I don't deserve forgiveness. I don't deserve your love. I can only try to earn it. Please, at least give me a chance."

"No. It will never happen." Jack hissed, and was about to shoot off into the night sky to emphasise his point when a voice cemented his feet to the ground, a rude and disrespectful tone that only belonged to one entity.

"That's horse crap and _you know it._"

Everyone's heads whipped round to the Reaper, who had his arms folded across his chest and was staring at Jack with a challenging look, until he noticed all pairs of eyes on him. He glanced from person to person, and realised he had spoken out of turn.

"Bollocks," he admonished himself, and quietened his voice to barely above a whisper, "oh...double bollocks. Spoiler alert…"

Jack rounded on him and advanced upon the entity with an expression of deep anger.

"What did you just say?" he snarled, prompting everyone including Elsa to take two steps backwards. Death was unfazed as Jack pointed his staff at his face in an attempt to look intimidating, but that was undermined as the entity casually pushed the staff aside with one finger and smirked at the winter spirit.

"You call that a stick?"

Death flicked his left hand, and everyone gasped in surprise as a huge scythe materialised in its grip, the blade inches from Jack's neck. Raising his eyebrows as his point was made; he dissolved the scythe into his hand and folded his arms once more.

"_This_ is a stick. Look, I can't believe I'm moonlighting as Azrael the Agony Aunt, but here's the deal. What you and Queenie have is something that pretty much _never _happens, and that's two immortal beings that happen to be in love, and have the opportunity to spend the rest of eternity together. I don't have that. Neither do these jokers," he gestured to the rest of the Guardians, "and especially not Moon Boy up there."

The moon brightened a little as though the Manny of this time period had been offended by Death's remark.

"What I'm saying is, don't piss it away just because Elsa got conned by a whiny, brattish Goth rip-off with delusions of grandeur. You two can sod off over there by the fountain and hear each other out. Or not. I really don't care either way. I'm done meddling in the affairs of you lot. I've got places to be, and souls to take care of."

He revolved on the spot, his trench coat swirling in an echo as he did so, and began to stalk off. Elsa, feeling the need to say something, called after him.

"Azrael?"

He stopped, and turned to face her with an expression of _'what the bloody hell do you want?'_

"Thank you for giving me a second chance."

The entity surprised everyone for a second time by smiling warmly in appreciation of her gratitude, and bowed his head respectfully.

"Remember what I said, both of you. Don't piss it away."

Before anyone could speak, he turned once more and walked off into the night, melting into the shadows and disappearing from their sight. The Guardians exchanged bewildered glances at what just happened – Death himself had taken time out to rectify a mistake, and in the process may have saved a relationship. They glanced between Elsa and Jack who were now looking at each other as though searching for what to say.

"C'mon folks," Bunny muttered, "let's leave 'em to it."

Neither Jack nor Elsa noticed the billowing of a snow-globe portal somewhere to their left, or the absence of the four Guardians of Childhood. All they could think about that moment was how they were going to go about the next few minutes. Would Jack disregard Death's rather blunt advice and fly off into the night, and leave Elsa to spend eternity alone, or would he take it on board and hear her out? He awkwardly ran his free hand through his hair as Elsa wrung hers together in worry; both waiting for the other to speak…and then Jack was the first to break the silence.

"So…fountain?"

Elsa's breath escaped in a torrent of relief, and she allowed herself to smile widely. Maybe they could get their relationship back on track.

If they patched things up, she made a mental note that if she were ever to see the grumpy Reaper again, to thank him.

**A/N:**

**I think I had more fun writing Death than anything else. Yeah, so that's that. A little oneshot while I jot down things for Cold to the Touch. Hope y'all like it.**

**Au revoir!**


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